Otis Gibbs grew up in the cornfields of central Indiana, where kids rode tractors to school and musicians entertained on porches, collecting what money they could but never dreaming of making it a living.

When he moved from his hometown of Wanamaker to the punky Indianapolis neighborhood of Broad Ripple, he dug into manual work. He planted trees — more than 7,000 in Indiana over the years — and spent his free time playing the guitar.

“I never dreamed much bigger than playing the local bars for my friends,” he said.

Looking back, his Indiana upbringing remains a vital part of who he is.

“I’m a Hoosier. I feel guilty for leaving sometimes. I get to travel and play around the world, and every night I’m telling stories about Indiana,” he said.

“There comes a time where you have to move on,” he added. “That time came for me.”

It makes sense, knowing his rural upbringing, that Gibbs’ new album is called “Souvenirs of a Misspent Youth.” But the stories he tells in this forlorn tribute to Old America aren’t all about him. The title refers to his father, not himself. “Ghosts Of Our Fathers” illuminates Gibbs’ complex appreciation for the man, who had damaged eyes, hands of stone and a “busted up nose and cauliflower ears.”

“He’d smile at me,” he sings. “And say that the toughest fighters have their souvenirs.”

Gibbs performs naturally on camera. His music videos are simple montages of his home in East Nashville, Tennessee, that emphasize mood over narrative. In the video for the rambling, heartfelt “The Darker Side of Me,” Gibbs recounts a tale he once heard from a hobo over a campfire while his band plucks on their banjos and guitars.

Indiana, his family, planting trees and old friends mean a variety of things to Gibbs. His songs are tinged with the sights and sounds of farm country — old and bare and filled with social commentary like the ballads of Woody Guthrie. But Gibbs is not one to romanticize the past. Music is a part of life in Indiana, but it struggles to thrive outside of urban areas, he said.

“There’s people out in the cornfields, some kid who would like to pursue art and make a living from that. But they have no idea where to even start,” Gibbs said. “When you live in small town Indiana, and I guess it’s the same if you live in Nebraska or Idaho, you’re so far away from those things. There’s not anybody in your day-to-day life who has managed to do it.”

Stories of Indiana give Gibbs an American-roots authenticity that glossy modern country music stars only wish they had.

Because Gibbs didn’t grow up in a music family, he never dreamed of being a rock star. When asked what he felt like living near a city filled with Carrie Underwoods and Kelly Clarksons, he said, “To be honest, I don’t even know who those people are. People think they need to go against the mainstream, but it’s so easy to just not be aware of any of that.”

Gibbs said his best decision was to give up on finding a major label.

“Once again speaking to the kid growing up in the cornfields of Indiana who wants to pursue arts some way: There’s a big party going on. We’d all like to come in through the front door, but the reality is, most of us aren’t on the guest list,” he said. “What are you going to do then?”

Gibbs’ solution: “I just worried about people who dig music, buy records and go to shows,” he said. “I was surprised overnight how much better everything got.”

He operates an intimate operation in his home with business and recording partner Amy Lashley.

“People order something, we pack it up in our living room, and we put in a little thank you note,” Gibbs said. “There’s no rock star façade to any of this. We treat it like we own a diner out on the corner. People come in, they know our names, and we all know their names. People have responded really well to that.”